


Raising the Bar

by kokofas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Ages Differ From Canon, Characters aged differently, Gym AU, Gym Trainer Keith, Gym Trainer Shiro, Here to make shy shiro a thing 2017, LGBT friendly gym, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Powerlifter Allura, Rating might go up, Shiro has PTSD, Shiro still has a white streak due to previous trauma, Shiro's robot arm is a chronic arm injury, This is literally gym culture but GAY, Transmale keith, but systematic anti-LGBT stuff is still a thing, mention of systematic transphobia, wrestler!Keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokofas/pseuds/kokofas
Summary: Shiro attempted to avert his eyes, but found them trailing back to the man’s small, yet perfectly round butt every time he adjusted his vision. He missed Keith’s next words as he stared, only snapping out of it as he heard Allura’s laugh break out beside him.“What?” He asked in annoyance, knowing exactly what she was laughing at.“Told you he’s hot.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend at least 3-4 hours at the gym everyday so you can't blame me for this. It was inevitable.  
> Character ages:  
> Shiro & Allura: 24 years old  
> Keith: 22 years old  
> Lance & Hunk: 21 years old  
> Pidge: 17-18 years old  
> Coran: A timeless beauty  
> Thank you [ @redlionkeifth](http://redlionkeifth.tumblr.com) for accepting to be the beta for this!

“Coran?” Shiro called as he walked out of the ‘Staff Only’ locker room after leaving his gym bag and its contents in his assigned locker. He hadn’t locked it, mainly because no one ever really had to worry about locking their things in this gym. Coran, the manager, had somehow established an environment of trust when he’d first opened the gym, and it had certainly lived on, even after six years of its opening.

“Hey, Hunk,” Shiro tapped his fingers on the reception counter. Hunk was their receptionist, a big, and bulky man who always managed to befriend anyone. Shiro liked the man, but he knew he could talk for ages, and he had clients to get to, so he quickly beat him to the next words as he saw him prepare to reply. “Do you know where Coran is?”

“Oh. Yeah. I think he went upstairs with those men here for the AC’s.” Hunk replied, leaning on one elbow as he looked up at Shiro from where he was seated.

“The AC’s? We’re finally changing them?” Shiro asked in disbelief, trying hard not to let the excitement slip into his voice. He had spent two whole years initially convincing Coran that they needed AC’s and _not_ just air vents in the gym for people to survive, after it started reaching an ungodly 77 F indoors at all times. After that, Coran had installed some of what Shiro and the other staff liked to call cardboard AC’s, because their presence and the lack of it yielded pretty much the same result. It was a dream come true that they were changing them, and he was sure it had been a tough decision on Coran, who was always overthinking every business move he thought of making.

“Our prayers have been answered, Shiro. We can finally stop putting those little, handheld fans into his locker.” Hunk grinned. “I think I wasted half of my salary on buying those.”

“I _did_ waste half of my salary on those, I bought an entire box of them off eBay.” Shiro sighed, then looked towards the darker male as he was adjusting the ribbon he tied around his head. “Can I interest you in a hundred or so handheld fans? They’re really great quality.”

“Shiro, why the hell did you buy a hundred fans?” Hunk raised an eyebrow as the older man sighed, dropping his head back in frustration.

“I thought this was going to last another four years. I thought I was making an intelligent investment.” He pouted, looking down at his fingernails in dismay.

“This is why Coran never does anything you tell him to do with the gym, man. It took Allura telling him to change up the pieces of crap for him to get convinced.” Hunk said.

“That’s because he forgets Allura isn’t his _actual daughter_.” Shiro sighed as he straightened up.

“Are you _jealous_?” Hunk sang, laughing as Shiro glared at the suggestion. “Fighting for dad’s affection?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m a grown man.” Shiro rolled his eyes, remembering to scan his thumb on the fingerprint machine that registered their sign in as he pushed himself off the counter. “And stop calling him my dad.” He smirked as he heard Hunk laugh from behind him, taking the stairs two at a time to the upper floor.

Though Coran really wasn’t Shiro’s father, he might as well have been. He’d pretty much scooped Shiro out of the trash pile that was Shiro’s neighborhood, that afternoon Shiro had walked into the gym Coran was working at at that time. It was in a rough neighborhood, and most of the men there towered over Shiro at least a good two feet. He could have easily asked Shiro to leave that day, but every time Shiro asked him why he’d let him stick around to watch instead, Coran told him that he could tell Shiro needed that escape.

And he was right. Shiro’s home life was a wreck, and he had no interest in joining most of the street gangs- which left him out of place most of the time. The gym Coran worked at had ended up being Shiro’s escape from that reality, and soon enough he was inviting him to lift a few weights or land a few punches and kicks on a punching bag, until he finally became Shiro’s official trainer.

Shiro smiled as he spotted Coran standing near a few men dressed in gray uniforms that seemed to be dictated by their company. The man was, as Shiro usually found him standing, had his strong, defined arms crossed behind his back, which was straighter than a soldier’s as he observed the workers. Shiro wasn’t sure how he did it, but Coran always managed to look both strong and graceful in his stance. He guessed it was the years of being both a lifter and a trainer, but he doubted he himself would ever end up like that.

“Coran.” He said as he stood beside the man, turning to watch the men at work briefly. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh? What for?” Coran turned to look at him in interest.

“About Lance’s program. I don’t think it’s really working out so well and I thought maybe-“

“You shouldn’t worry about that.” Coran cut him off. “I assigned him to Keith instead.”

“Who the hell is Keith?” Shiro frowned in confusion. He was the main trainer at the gym, while Coran and the other trainer, Thace, took on a few clients, but not as many as he did. It was stressful for sure, as Shiro liked being invested in the coaching of every single one of his clients, making sure they were constantly making good progress and developing in the lifting trade, but it was what he loved to do, and he did it well.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? He’s the new trainer I hired. He’s very good, I’ve already transferred a fraction of your trainees to him.” Coran stated calmly, Shiro’s eyes widening as he tried to contain his reaction.

“You did what?!” Shiro groaned, leaning his arm on the beam near them and resting his head on his forearm in frustration. “Coran, I told you not to mess with my work for the clients. I really worked hard on those programs!”

“I just transferred the people I thought would do better with him.” Coran shrugged. “Besides, he needs some clients for him to work. I can’t have him sit around with Hunk.”

“Well, a real solution for that would have been _not to hire him_.” Shiro sighed. “I can handle things here pretty well.”

“You can,” Coran agreed. “but you shouldn’t. You should be happy! I removed half of your load from you! You can have a life now. Get a boyfriend. Or maybe refocus on your _own_ training.” Coran side-eyed him, which Shiro purposefully ignored as he sighed in defeat, knowing he couldn’t really argue with Coran when he got like this, and _definitely_ didn’t want to step into the minefield that was the topic of his training, no matter how much Coran tried to push for them to talk about it.

“Alright, whatever. I’ll go see how that guy’s doing. But if I don’t like his work, I’m taking my clients back.” Shiro warned, scowling as he saw Coran smirk at him before turning back to the men.

“I think you’ll like what you’ll see.”

* * *

Shiro hadn’t found the new trainer. The moment he’d stepped back down to the main floor, he’d been bombarded by both friends and clients, many of whom were asking him for advice on strengthening and isolating the trickier muscles like deltoids and trapezes. And that’s how he had ended up spending countless hours just running from one person to the other, checking their form, and spotting them when they needed it.

It was already nearly evening, and a lot of the crowd had dispersed already. He’d just finished with a client he’d only begun working with a couple of months ago, going by the name of Slav, and he felt like slamming his head against the wall. The man was a registered genius, a man who worked as a quantum physicist in the local university, and that didn’t make Shiro’s work easier at all. He hated working with the ones who ended up researching all the fine details way too much. Working out was a complex science for sure, but if one spent their entire time discussing all the possible routes that could maximize muscle growth without ever _actually trying to maximize muscle growth_ , no one benefited.

He sighed, opening the cap of his water bottle and gulping down a good quarter of it, before Allura’s voice snuck up on him before her presence did.

“Dead yet?” She asked, leaning against the wall beside him. Shiro was always impressed whenever he saw Allura. She was his own age, only 24 years old, and had only been powerlifting for four years, yet she had the build of a beast. Her arms were massive, with the muscle rippling out of them like coiled snakes whenever she made any move. He knew many people had trouble believing she had never taken any steroids, but he knew that all of this was her own hard work.

“Pretty much. I wish Coran had given Slav to the new guy instead of leaving me stuck with him.”

“Keith?” Allura asked, Shiro nodding silently beside her. “I saw him working with a few people. He’s a lot smaller than I expected a gym trainer to be.”

“Really?” Shiro turned to look at her, watching her nod. “I haven’t seen him at all yet. Coran dropped the news of him on me this morning anyway.” He found himself scowling a little, which Allura laughed at.

“You’re being such a baby, Shiro. Give the guy a chance.” She grinned in amusement as he turned his scowl onto her.

“I don’t need any help.” He puffed his chest stubbornly. She already knew that was his cue for I’m-not-going-to-budge-from-this-stance.

“Well, he’s really hot.” She smirked, watching him slowly turn to her. “I think you’ll find him… _interesting_.”

“No way.” He shook his head. “I don’t do gym dating.”

“Well, you should, because at least twenty people are thirsting after you simultaneously every time you walk into this floor.” She grinned deviously as she saw the tips of his ears turn pink. No matter how buff Shiro got, he had a soft core that only those close to him knew about. And an aspect of that core was being _really_ shy.

“So, where did you say he was at?” Shiro asked, completely moving on from the topic but realizing he’d stepped right into another one as her grin grew.

“Last time I saw, he was coaching Lance at the lat pulldowns. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kill himself or kill Keith more.”

“Today is Lance’s chest day.” Shiro frowned. “He’s completely messing up my program for him.” He pushed himself off the wall, weaving his way through the machines and people standing around and talking as he made his way towards the back machines area, sensing more than seeing Allura trailing behind him. He stopped a couple of meters away as he glimpsed Lance, who had now moved onto the seated cable row, with who had to be Keith standing above his head and seemingly giving him little bits of advice here and there.

Studying the man, Shiro immediately saw why Allura had been surprised by his size. His frame was small, and his waist was slimmer than he had ever seen on the males around him in the gym. Nonetheless, he could see every single detail of the man’s arms beneath his black, long-sleeve Under Armour shirt. He let his eyes trail down to the rest of him, noting with appreciation his clearly defined abs and his slim yet firm legs. The man was built more like a dancer than a lifter, strength with no bulk that could hinder the lightness that a dancer needed, and he quickly became curious as to what his personal training program looked like.

“Why can’t we just do pull ups already?” He heard Lance complain as he looked up at the coach, whose glare made him quickly turn his attention back to the machine he was using.

“Because like I said, your back is under-developed. You need to work a little more on it before I let you do proper calisthenics.” Keith replied, a no-bullshit tone to his voice carrying over to where Shiro was standing.

Lance huffed loudly as he let the weight drop back down with a loud _CLANG_ , and a scowl slipped onto Keith’s face as he narrowed his eyes at the darker man.

“Why did you do that? You still had four reps to go.” He asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. His eyes were fierce, that Shiro could see from his spot at the edge of the room, and he wondered how Lance was surviving the withering gaze.

“My hands hurt.” Lance scowled back, turning to give the man a glare of his own. Allura was grinning at the scene beside him, but Shiro was more preoccupied with seeing how Keith would handle the situation.

“It’s because you keep gripping the bar wrong.” Keith sighed as he squatted down beside Lance so he could be level with his hands, his entire body supported under his toes. Shiro attempted to avert his eyes, but found them trailing back to the man’s small, yet perfectly round butt every time he adjusted his vision. He missed Keith’s next words as he stared, only snapping out of it as he heard Allura’s laugh break out beside him.

“What?” He asked in annoyance, knowing _exactly_ what she was laughing at.

“Told you he’s hot.”  She laughed even harder as he glared pointedly at her, glancing back at the man as he prompted Lance to redo his set before turning his back to the scene and starting to walk back to the reception.

“Shut up.” He said as he felt her gaze on him, rolling his eyes as he heard her conceal a squeal.

“Does this mean you don’t hate him?” She asked excitedly.

“He seemed to be doing fine. Besides, I don’t _hate_.” He stopped at the water cooler, pouring freshly chilled water into the now warmed water inside of his bottle.

“Mr. Zarkon?” She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed.

“Zarkon is a rich prick, I don’t know how he stands himself.” He scowled then took another swig of his water. “Anyway, we still don’t know how good Keith really is, so keep your head in the game.” He flicked her forehead, earning an indignant _Ow!_ from her before bypassing her with a smirk.

Making his way back to the gym area, he busied himself with one of the clients warming up on a treadmill, stealing glances at the new trainer’s legging-clad, impossibly defined legs.

He sighed. This was not going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspo for buff Allura was [this](http://wuffen.tumblr.com/post/162069313690) and [this](http://wuffen.tumblr.com/post/162106100740/she-just-sparred-against-all-the-paladins-at-once).
> 
> All I want in the world is for Keith and Shiro to one day brawl and for Keith to body slam Shiro onto the ground even though he's half his size. Is that too much to ask for? (I'm a sucker for size difference, and even more so at the gym)
> 
> This is going to have a lot of references to workouts but rarely will they be relevant to plot development.
> 
> [Hit me up on tumblr](http://k0fta.tumblr.com) pls I constantly need to cry about sheith.
> 
> Let me know?? if this is any good??? i need motivation


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions are important, and of course, only Shiro can royally mess that up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [@redlionkeifth](http://redlionkeifth.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this story for me.
> 
> And thank you all for the kind comments and messages I received over tumblr!! You're all amazing <3

Shiro preferred to work the evenings at the gym, if he was being honest. The day shift, while very busy, was always a little too much for him. One would think that after six years of working as a gym trainer, he’d be accustomed to all the honorary gym socialization that came along with the job, but he still felt awkward chatting with everyone that passed by. The ability to change the focus of the conversations from whatever the person was rambling about to their training always helped make it a little less dreadful, but not so that he would completely relax.

Evenings were exponentially better. Less people came to workout, for one, and those that did were usually more advanced and comfortable with their routines, and therefore needed his attention a lot less. He could slip in his own workout within this shift, and the light crowd meant that he could generally finish it without much interruption- something impossible to expect during the day shift.

He slung his towel over his right shoulder as he made his way towards the back, where the chest machines as well as the leg machines were situated. He never understood that layout, but Coran said that it helped with space, so he wasn’t going to argue with him over it. Placing his bottle on the floor beside the Chest Press Machine, he was about to sit down when the clang of a bar in the otherwise empty section caught his attention, causing him to look up, despite the normalcy of the clanging of bars to his ears at this point.

He tracked the sound, his eyes finally landing on its source: the squat rack. The rack was completely unassisted, the kind that required one to carry the full weight of the bar, as well as maintain perfect posture and balance all on their own, and his eyes bugged out a little as he saw Keith, the slim trainer from before, load up a total of 150lbs onto the bar.

He found himself walking towards the man before he could really register the movement, and he stopped a few steps away, watching the man situate himself under the bar and position his hands on either side and under his ears.

“That’s a lot of weight to carry.” He blurted out before he could really stop himself, realizing how pretentious it must have sounded once it was already out. Inwardly, he cringed, but he knew that he wasn’t wrong to feel a little concern for the man. He didn’t look like he weighed more than a 150lbs himself, and it was always a little risky to put more weight on the knees than they could handle. He quickly realized he needed to add onto his statement, if he didn’t want to seem like a douchebag. “I-I mean, that bar alone is 45lbs. So, you’re trying to carry a good 195lbs there.”

Keith blinked at Shiro, his hands still where they were at the bar as he watched him. Shiro felt nervous under his gaze but stayed firm, trying to understand the man’s mannerisms. He had no idea whether Keith planned to speak at all, and as the anxiety heightened inside his chest he quickly stumbled into his next sentence.

“I-I mean, I’m really just asking, do you think you can handle it?” He added hastily, unsure whether he had caught a smirk on Keith’s lips as his grip retightened around the bar.

“Watch me.” The man finally said, readjusting his posture and heaving the weight onto his shoulders before Shiro could recover from the simple statement. He wanted to step in and spot him, but in that moment, he watched Keith squat down in one single, fluid, motion, sinking into a deep squat so clean Shiro felt a little envious watching. But the journey back up was what was truly fascinating. Keith was calculating and efficient, rising back up to his previous position with a grace that made one forget he was carrying nearly 200lbs up on his lean shoulders.

Shiro watched intently as the man finished around thirteen repetitions with the weight, the last few of them slow and labored though never missing the precise, clean motions from the very first one. As Keith took the two steps back to rack the bar up again, Shiro, by force of habit, quickly stepped in to secure the bar for him, helping him move it off his back before taking a step back again, giving the man his space.

“What?” Keith asked as he reached for his towel, wiping the sweat off his brow. He was panting, his cheeks pink from exertion, but he did not otherwise look spent, his legs still firm under him after that set. Shiro felt his own cheeks heat up shyly as he realized he had been staring, and he quickly averted his eyes to the side, blinking, before they resettled onto his colleague.

“That was…impressive. Pretty professional. You know, the form, and all.” He cursed himself at the jerky way he was speaking, wishing he could act just _a little more_ chill around the man. It wasn’t like he ever acted chill, but he wasn’t a stammering mess around most people, and he was kind of glad the part of the floor they were currently in was still deserted of gym-goers, just so he could save some face.

“I _am_ a gym instructor, you know.” Keith smiled in what looked like amusement as he walked past Shiro to grab two 10lbs weights, adding each to either side of the bar.

“Regardless, that was something I can’t do, and I’ve been in the game for a while.” Shiro wrapped his arms against his chest, wishing he’d worn a more loose-fitting shirt as it pinched him near his armpits.

“Well, if you’ve been in it for a while then you know a person could lift for decades and still be a complete dumbass at this.” Keith shrugged as he pushed himself off the side of the squat rack to start positioning himself next set. “And I’m sure your form isn’t too bad. Coran didn’t seem like a man who hires anyone at his gym.”

“No, I guess he doesn’t.” Shiro smiled a little, before tapping the rack’s metal a couple of times. “I’ll leave you to it, I’ve got to finish up before anybody remembers I exist.” He saw an amused looked flash across Keith’s features, then he forcibly removed himself from his side.

The embarrassment from the interaction quickly returned to Shiro as he sat down at the bench press, but the feeling that he’d just come across something _else_ , for the first time of his life, assuaged it. He brushed both sensations away as he put his earphones in, focusing on his warm up set.

* * *

 

Sometimes, one could get into a zone of absolute focus during a workout, only to find out they’d just crushed every single personal record of theirs. And sometimes, that same zone could trick one’s passive brain into thinking the body could do more than it _could_ actually do, and that was where most lifters got their injuries from.

That same zone was what had gotten Shiro to load up 225lbs on the bench press, not once thinking to ask a spotter to stand behind him as he took the bar off the rack and began his set.

Which had started out just fine. Slow, but fine, and Shiro paid no mind to the pressure the weight applied on his palms or wrists, and continued to pay no mind to said pressure as it traveled to his elbows. He was on the fourth repetition when he’d felt it, the twinge in his not-so-recently injured arm, but he pushed past it to continue onto the fifth, and then onto the sixth, where his arm, not unsurprisingly, buckled under the weight on its descent down to his chest, and maybe his arm locking up was what saved his breastbone as the bar shook in the air barely an inch above him, the effort his muscles were exerting completely useless under the immense weight.

Shiro was certain he was about to give himself another spectacular injury to struggle with for the next several months, was certain that the weight would probably be too heavy for him to breathe properly when it finally did land on his chest, and how sad would it be if he actually managed to _die_ on the bench press?

So preoccupied with his scrambling thoughts, he almost didn’t notice it when a pair of pale hands appeared, momentarily brushing his chest as they wrapped around the bar and _heaved_ up, his own arms, now back at a less disabling angle, managing to help the unknown savior lift the bar the rest of the way up and onto the rack. Shiro quickly sat up, panting heavily, his hands shaking in his lap as he stared at the red marks dug into them from where they’d gripped the bar.

“That’s a lot of weight to carry.”  He heard a voice from behind him say, and he quickly swiveled around as he realized it was Keith echoing his words back to him. His eyes were still a little bugged out as he stared at the raven-haired man, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“Thanks.” He blurted dumbly, still bewildered he hadn’t broken a collarbone or breastbone with that stunt just now.

“Don’t mention it.” Keith shrugged. He nodded towards his arm. “Is it hurting?” He asked, catching Shiro by surprise. He was sure he hadn’t told Keith about his injury, since their conversation from earlier had been their first. And he was certain neither Coran, nor any of the others would freely pass around the tale around it. They knew how privately he handled it, after all.

“I-“ He felt the throbbing in it now that his attention was brought to it, and he glanced over as if to make sure it was still intact, still in its correct place, and definitely not back to the grotesque limb that had once hung limply at his side as he struggled to remain conscious. He snapped out of it, quickly turning back to look at the man, who was patiently watching him. “It does, but ice will calm it. How did you…?”

“It’s not obvious to everyone, if that’s what you’re asking.” Keith began. “I just noticed that you rely on your other arm more, and if it’s a heavy weight you tend to lean on one side more than the other by the end of a set.” The man quickly flushed, scowling as he noticed Shiro gaping at him and turning to look outside the window with faked indifference. “I was just watching between my sets.” He mumbled in defense.

Shiro wondered if he should let him in on what had happened, to explain to him all these imperfections in his play. But as it was, he barely felt okay with accepting it himself, and having to repeat the ordeal by speaking about it felt beyond him. Instead, he smiled softly.

“Being observant is part of being a trainer here.” He stood up, thankfully steady though his body threatened to shake. “Thank you.” He offered his hand to shake as the man’s eyes settled on him again. “Shiro.”

Keith took it, his face relaxing into a small smile. “Keith. But I think we both knew each other’s names already.” He let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, one Shiro hadn’t anticipated from the man, and he felt himself relax even more in his presence in return.

“It’s always good to do official introductions.” Shiro grinned. He glanced at the clock behind Keith and sighed internally. He’d already spent close to an hour on his own training, and he was sure Coran was going to come chase him down soon enough. “I think I’d better go shower. But, it’s a good thing we have you here now, Keith.” He smiled, realizing he had yet to release the man from his handshake and quickly letting go as he felt his cheeks overheat with a blush that _had_ to be noticeable. He turned around, quickly walking away from the bench and only realizing he’d forgotten his water bottle and towel beside it once he was a good ten steps away.

He groaned, and as he heard soft snickering come from where he _knew_ Keith was still standing, he decided he could live without them anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Shiro is too awkward here, it's because I mean for it to be that way. Just trust me on this.
> 
> Sorry this is so late! I've moved countries, from the middle east to the US and it's been such a _mess_ trying to get used to the timezone shift, the cultural change, and everything else. This chapter is short, but I wanted their first interaction to be in a chapter on its own. Besides that, updating shorter chapters allows me to update more often, so I guess it's a win in the end.
> 
> P.S. My gym-buddy/ex-boyfriend texted me today and told me all the coaches at the gym are missing me and asking about me. No, I'm not crying, you're crying. :/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you just gotta be honest about what you can't handle. Shiro learns this the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO UPDATE I'M SORRY i'm so bad with schedules....
> 
> Thanks to [my beta](http://www.redlionkeifth.tumblr.com) for being the actual best???
> 
>  **WARNING:** this chapter contains discussion of systematic transphobia. If you want to skip it, the part begins with Keith saying "Oh. Anyway,...etc" and ends with ' "It's just the way the world is." Keith shrugged '. Please be safe, if this is a trigger for you just skip it. It contains background info, but it isn't relevant to the overall plot.  <3
> 
>  **WARNING:** mention of PTSD, no reliving of traumatic experiences though.

The eating area where the gym staff could have their meals in peace wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. It was right behind the cafeteria counter, where the part-timer student Coran hired had to stand and prepare protein smoothies, preworkouts, and other necessities for those who paid for them. The staff area was _particularly_ uncomfortable because any person who entered the cafeteria could easily look behind the student to the window behind her, which would enable them to see who was in the staff room, and exactly what they were doing.

This meant that even when the coaches were on break, more often than not, a client or two would come peering in from the other side of the counter, looking like a lost puppy that Shiro _definitely_ didn’t have the heart to ignore.

It also meant that Allura and Pidge could always just walk in, because they couldn’t care less about the STAFF ONLY sign hanging outside of the door, and because they knew Coran would let them.

And although Shiro didn’t mind their company at all -in fact, he favored it- what it often did was cause him to forget the time completely and neglect his work, while he, Allura, Pidge, and usually Hunk discussed god-knows-what until Coran came in and berated them all.

This was the current situation he found himself in, as he completely forgot to return to the floor where his shift was still on-going, instead plopping down onto a seat at the only table in the room, sighing heavily.

“Why did I choose this job?” He asked, letting his forehead drop onto the cool surface of the marble table.

“So you could avoid going to college?” Hunk offered,

“So you could show off these guns?” Allura waggled her eyebrows at him,

“So you could hit on other coaches, particularly a pale-skinned, black-haired one with a killer ass and eyebrows to kill for?” Pidge grinned, jumping back and off their seat as Shiro reached over to tackle them.

“How do _you_ know about that?” He groaned, slumping in his seat with another great sigh.

“You really thought we wouldn’t be discussing this from day one?” Allura raised an eyebrow as she reached to tear a piece of the roti in front of her to scoop out some of the curry chicken from the platter she, Hunk and Pidge were sharing. Shiro watched as the curry sauce stained her fingers, a little intrigued how any of them could ever get the smell off their fingers afterwards. A spoonful of chicken curry entered Shiro’s line of sight and he jerked back, effectively snapping out of it as he kept his face as far away as possible from the spoon.

“I thought you’d know _there’s nothing going on_ and act like adults.” He rolled his eyes. “And Hunk, stop trying to attack my face with spicy food.”

“I’m just trying to make you see the light. I don’t know how you can’t eat spicy food, you’re _Asian_.” If Shiro could roll his eyes harder, he would have.

“Okay, first: not every Asian person likes spicy food and second: I didn’t even grow up in an Asian household. I was a foster child to a white family.”

“I’m so sorry.” Allura grabbed his hand sympathetically which he slapped away, pouting as she laughed loudly.

“Have I ever said that I regret befriending every single one of you?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Without us you’d be dead bored in this gym every day.” Hunk spoke through a mouthful of food, attempting at a smirk.

“Then again, now that Keith’s here, he probably doesn’t need us to keep him company anymore.” Allura waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, smiling to Pidge as he growled and looked to the side, cheeks tinging pink. He was about to let them all know that they were bad friends when the door to the staff room clicked open, through it appearing their current topic of discussion.

“Hey guys, what are you eating?” Keith asked as he approached the table they sat at. As Shiro caught a sideview of him he choked, noticing the small, pink hair-tie that sat at the end of a loose ponytail on the back of his head, most of the strands having fallen out of it already.

“Why do you have a pink hair-tie in your hair, Keith?” Hunk asked, watching as Keith’s eyes widened and immediately went straight for the back of his head, pulling it off and examining it in his hand.

“That’s from my sister,” He groaned, twiddling the hair-tie in his fingers. “I was visiting my dad yesterday and she decided I needed a new hairstyle. I thought I got them all out, I can’t believe I’ve been training people like this all day.” He pouted, though he still slipped the band onto his wrist.

“I think it looked cute.” Allura turned her gaze to Shiro. “Right, Shiro?”

“ _Right_.” He ground out, glaring at her pointedly as he kicked her under the table, wincing as Pidge jumped instead. He’d apologize later.

“Want some Indian curry, Keith?” Hunk gestured to one of the foil-wrapped packages. “We got it from that new Indian place down the street. I give it five stars.”

“Tempting.” Keith said as he drew nearer to inspect it, eyeing it with interest. “But I’m actually feeling like some Mexican. Any good places around here?”

“ _Ooh_ , go to _Serrano’s_. It’s my and my brother’s favorite!” Pidge piped in excitedly. “I mean, I _did_ once get poisoning from there, but what’s a little collateral damage when you’ve got the world’s best burrito in your hands?” Pidge only noticed the looks directed at them a few seconds after their statement, swallowing the juice they were sipping on. “What?”

“You’re really crazy, kiddo.” Hunk responded, ruffling Pidge’s hair affectionately.

“Say what you will, you’re all missing out on the food of the gods.”

“The gods of E-coli?” Shiro smirked, laughing as Pidge punched his shoulder indignantly. “We’re just teasing.”

Pidge pointed their tongue out at him in true mature manner, before turning to look at Keith again. “Trust me, Keith.”

Keith patted their back supportively. “I’m going to check it out.” He laughed as Hunk tried to beg him not to go.

“Look, we can’t lose you to the stomach flu. You’re the best trainer we’ve got.”

“I feel I should be a little offended right now.” Shiro narrowed his eyes as Allura snorted.

“I’ll survive.” Keith assured Hunk. “Anyone else want something from there?” He asked as he headed towards the electric plug on one of the corners of the room, unplugging his phone from its charger and pocketing it.

“Actually,” Allura started. Shiro should have known she was about to say something to set up a trap for him, particularly as he saw the devilish look she cast his way, but all he did was blink dumbly as she continued. “Shiro _loves_ spicy food, especially Mexican. You should take him with you.”

“I really don’t think that’s-“ Shiro winced as she kicked his shin under the table, effectively shutting him up.

“Oh, cool. Let’s go then, Shiro?” Keith asked, and Shiro could’ve sworn he could see an amused look fighting to appear on his face.

“I really shouldn’t leave the floor, you know, in case a client needs help-“

“Actually, Thace just came in for his shift.” Keith interrupted him. “We’ll be quick.” He added, looking just a little hopeful as he waited for Shiro’s response. Shiro wished he could tell him there was really no hope in sight at this point. He was the equivalent of a white suburban mom when it came to spices tolerance, and _Allura_ of all people knew that. At the same time, he didn’t want to disappoint the other man, not when they finally had a chance to spend some time together outside of this sweat swamp.

Realizing he had been staring at the pink, sparkly hair-tie on Keith’s wrist for far too long, Shiro sighed in resignation. “Fine.”

* * *

 

Shiro was nervous, and he had plenty of reason to be so. For one, he was with the guy he liked way more than he felt comfortable admitting on what was kind of a date. Not only that but he was about to eat with him what could possibly be the last thing his body could handle eating. But Coran didn’t coach him to be a quitter, so he swallowed his fears and slid into one of the booths at the place.

Keith was ordering for them. He’d told him to order him whatever he was getting for himself, which he now realized might have been a mistake. If he’d ordered for himself, he could have begged them to be kind on his weak soul and give him the milder options.

Shiro found his fingers drumming a pattern into the checkered table cloth under them as he remained deep in thought, index and middle finger racing from square to the next until he’d formed a pattern of sorts. He sank into a relaxed state, his mind flitting from one topic to the next, and only snapped out of it when he noticed the tray being lowered onto the table in front of him. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Keith.

“Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly, tensing up as his burrito was pushed towards him.

“Are you always this nervous?” Keith asked, unwrapping the foil around his own burrito. “Sorry, I’ve just never seen you, you know, _calm_ while doing anything.”

“I…” Shiro began, looking down at his food as he considered what he could say to that. He’d never even noticed it himself, since he’d existed in this state for so long now. “I guess not.” He laughed softly, the laugh not reaching his eyes as Keith’s face took on a contemplative quality.

“Is it because of that?” He nodded towards Shiro’s arm before biting into his food. A drop of sriracha trailed down his pale hand and dripped onto the container underneath, Shiro’s eyes following it.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I mean, my therapist said it is. That it makes me _anxious_. But I don’t know how to fix it.” He sighed, feeling the tiredness that had long since settled deep within his bones throb dully. He didn’t dwell on it as he bit into his food as well, immediately grimacing as his mouth was set on fire. “Fuck, what did you put in this?”

“Uh, everything. You said you liked spicy food.” Keith defended, his wrap held midair between his plate and his mouth.

“Love it.” Shiro croaked, giving him a half-hearted thumbs-up as he repressed a cough, swallowing the piece of food and smiling weakly. “Anyway, why don’t you tell me about you instead? You only have one sister?”

Shiro was thankful that Keith seemed to have caught onto him changing the topic, relieved as the man went along with it.

“Yeah. Well, she’s my half-sister. My dad remarried a few years ago.” Keith explained. “His wife and I don’t talk that much, but she’s alright. Her kid is cute though, so I visit them occasionally.”

“What happened to your mom, though?” Shiro asked, hoping he wasn’t too blunt as he reached for some water.

“She…left. When I was little. Too little to even remember it happening.” Keith shrugged.

“Do you know why?” Shiro frowned, lowering his water bottle to watch the man’s expression. He could see many conflicting emotions, but Keith’s face soon resettled onto a guarded expression.

“Not really. Dad says she was having a hard time back then. I think that just means she didn’t really want a baby, and woke up one day realizing she could just disappear and forget about us.” Keith played with his knife, dragging it in random patterns on the surface of the cloth as he seemed to consider what he’d just said.

Shiro wondered what one could say in this situation. He didn’t know how this felt like, since he’d only ever known the foster care system. And once he’d settled with his foster family in the projects, he just stayed there until he was old enough to leave. He’d never had to deal with abandonment much, considering he’d never had to move around as much as many foster kids he knew did.

“I’m sorry.” He finally settled on saying. “That must have been hard.”

“It bothered me when I was an angsty teenager. I wanted to go and find her. I even ran away from home a couple of times to try and do it.” Keith chuckled humorlessly. “But then I grew up and it mattered less. My dad, he did a good job.” Keith cracked a soft smile. “But anyway, we’re not here to talk about sob stories.”

“No we’re not.” Shiro agreed, clearing his throat as it tingled from the jalapeno he’d swallowed hastily before. “So, what sort of stuff do you do besides the gym?”

“I… guess not much. If I’m not working now, I’m training on my own. Otherwise, I just hang out at home. I only just moved out here on my own so I really don’t know anyone.” Keith seemed sheepish, eyeing the tiled floor as he toyed with the wrapper around the remainder of his burrito.

“What were you doing before?” Shiro asked, curious. Keith sighed, humming as he seemed to think about his next words.

“Don’t judge.” He started, pointing a strict finger at Shiro, who nodded quickly. “Okay, so. Originally, I never wanted to go to college because I wanted to be a wrestler.” Shiro noticed Keith’s cheeks tinge pink at the statement.

“Wait, really?” Shiro gaped. “You wrestle?”

“Well, yeah.” Keith shrugged. “Amateur wrestling. I started out in middle school, but then my dad noticed that I had something going on for me, so he got a friend of his who’s into it to train me. And that’s where it all started.”

“Well, why did you stop?” Shiro exclaimed, realizing that his voice had become too loud in his excitement. He apologized quickly, not missing the amusement that flashed across Keith’s face. “I mean, it’s just- that’s really awesome.”

“Yeah, it was.” Keith smiled fondly as he watched a water droplet trail down the bottle in front of him, his mind someplace else before realizing Shiro was still waiting for him to speak. “Oh. Anyway, when it came time for me to try to enroll in one of those wrestling academies, they just…wouldn’t let me do men’s wrestling. They were convinced that a transman could never take on cismen in a fight.”

“But you’re on hormones, aren’t you?” Keith nodded. “You can’t fight against women. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Shiro frowned.

“That’s what my dad and I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen. So, I just gave it up. My dad somehow convinced me to go to college after I was done with high school, and I got a degree in Exercise Science since it was the closest thing to what I would have liked to do.” Shiro was stunned. He hadn’t realized how difficult it was, what with all the progress society had been making when it came to LGBT issues around him. He didn’t think that things like this were an issue anymore, but now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he saw many transmen competing in lifting competitions either.

“I’m sorry.” Shiro finally said, surprising Keith with the statement.

“Why are you sorry?” Keith frowned.

“It’s just. This was your dream, and people stood in the way of you getting it, and the only reason you couldn’t get it was because of the way you were born. That’s just not fair.” Shiro shook his head.

“It’s just the way the world is.” Keith shrugged, and Shiro noticed how often he did it now. How often he seemed to force himself to brush things away, especially the ones that hurt him. He found himself hoping he could someday give him a reason not to hurt, then he was clearing his throat and looking down at his phone’s clock.

“I think we’d better get back. We did promise to come back quick.” Shiro smiled nervously at Keith, who looked entertained by Shiro’s sudden bashfulness. Shiro wondered if Keith knew what he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking the same things. _If he is, he clearly knows how to not embarrass himself about them, unlike me._

The two were soon going back the way they came, a companionable silence between them as Shiro’s mind raced. He stole glances at the side of Keith’s face whenever he thought he wasn’t looking, noting the way he seemed to constantly be looking a few steps ahead of his own feet as he walked, taking his hand out of his pocket every few minutes to brush a few strands of hair behind his ear before it fell right back. Shiro had to mentally restrain his hand from reaching over to grab the other’s, feeling cornered as they climbed into the elevator that would take them up to the gym.

“Hey, uh, actually,” Shiro started, “I think you should tell Coran about the wrestling thing. He’s been wanting to do combat classes in the morning for a while, you could lead those.”

“Wait, for real?” Keith asked, his voice raising a little in excitement before he seemed to notice it, looking to the side hesitantly. He spoke softer. “I don’t know, I haven’t done it professionally in a while…”

“I mean, chances are you’ll be teaching complete beginners, so I wouldn’t worry about that. Besides that, you’ll still be the most experienced between us trainers.” Shiro rested his hand on Keith’s shoulder, noticing as the man jumped a little in surprise at the action. “I really think you’d do well in it.”

“I’ll… think about it.” Keith said, a blush adorning his cheeks. There was a moment where neither one said anything or moved a muscle, eyes trained on each other. It was broken all too soon as the elevator dinged loudly, jarring them both out of their trance. Before Shiro could say anything, Keith was letting out a nervous laugh and walking out ahead of him. He muttered something about needing to change out of his clothes, seemingly not realizing he was _already_ in his gym clothes.

As Shiro stepped out of the elevator, he looked towards Hunk, who raised an eyebrow quizzically. He grinned back, striding into the gym floor confidently. He’d managed to make Keith blush, and to him, that was a definite _win_.

* * *

 

Shiro wasn’t fond of surprises. His PTSD usually pushed him to plan his entire day just to avoid any triggers, and surprises tended to cause trouble. Although not _every_ surprise was a trigger, every surprise was a nuisance nonetheless. And the current surprise he found himself facing off really wasn’t so much a surprise as it was karma, so all he could do was cuss out nature as its call came for the fourth time in the past hour.

“ _Do not_.” Shiro threatened as Hunk opened his mouth to comment on his predicament, glaring at the man as he ran-walk past him to the bathroom. He could hear him laugh, could hear him _wish him good luck_ in there, and he made a mental reminder to kick Hunk’s ass later.

Shiro groaned. It stank, and he really should have never agreed to eat that burrito. This was what spicy did to him. Diarrhea.

He hoped Keith hadn’t noticed. He must have noticed him walking in and out of the floor, but maybe he thought he had important phone calls to make. Shiro cursed. If he had been a smoker like Thace, he would have claimed to have needed a few cigarettes to calm down after training Slav. But no one was ever buying that one.

He’d spent a good twenty minutes in the cubicle when he felt his guts start to settle again, returning to that ominous silence that gave one a false sense of security. He sighed, deciding to wait five more minutes, just in case it was a false alarm, before concluding that life must have spared him for now. Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived as he took notice of the empty toilet roll next to him.

 _Of course_.

Sighing, Shiro tried to look around for a spare, which tended to be there during the morning but never quite made it until nighttime. As expected, there was none, and he resigned himself to texting for help. He pulled up the Messenger group chat they had for the gym squad, appropriately titled “Lifeless Squad”.

**_Mr. Muscle: Guys, code red. I just had explosive diarrhea in the bathroom and there’s no toilet paper. Someone be my hero._ **

Shiro waited for a response, hoping Hunk would see it first and save him before Allura came in to laugh at him. He unlocked his phone to check again, feeling his heart stop as he noticed a bubble showing who had seen his message. A bubble that clearly had Keith’s face in it.

“Oh no.”

**_Keith Kogane: i got u._ **

“Oh _noooo_.” Shiro groaned, covering his face with his hands as he berated himself. He hadn’t noticed Keith getting added to the group chat. When did that even happen? And why hadn’t anybody warned him? To be fair, he was the person to check or use the group chat the least, since Pidge and Hunk were usually spamming it with their memes, which had pushed him to mute the group chat for a whole week at least three times before, one of those times having been _this very week_.

**_irl princess: hahahahahahahahahahahaha_ **

**_*pidgepodge changed your nickname to ShiroGONE*_ **

**_ShiroGONE: Thanks pidge._**

**_pidgepodge: im just happy to be witnessing this LIVE tbh._ **

**_hell’s kitchen but soft: be strong shiro!_ **

Shiro sulked, freezing as he heard the door to the bathrooms swing open. He wondered if Keith would be unable to find him if he made no sound at all, but his theory was quickly dashed as a hand holding a toilet paper roll appeared from under the door.

“Smells tough.” Keith commented, and Shiro could _feel_ the cells in his body commit suicide one by one.

“Don’t.” Shiro ground out, accepting the roll and begrudgingly using it to wipe his ass as he heard Keith laugh from outside the door.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Keith asked, sounding like he was attempting to conceal his laughter and failing miserably.

“I didn’t want to seem lame.” Shiro whined, standing up to redress then hitting the flush.

Keith waited until the noise died down and Shiro was stepping out before responding sarcastically. “Because this wasn’t lame at all.”

Shiro glared. “Okay, you weren’t supposed to be on that chat.” He washed his hands, glowering down at where the soap formed a vortex in the sink as if it were the source of his current plight.

“Allura added me a couple of days ago.”

“Of course she did.” He sighed, purposefully bumping his forehead on the bathroom wall’s tile. “I’m such a mess.” He huffed.

“You are.” Keith’s hand touched the back of his shoulder briefly, causing Shiro to turn his head to look at the man. He found a smile softer than he was expecting on his face, and he unwillingly smiled back at Keith’s next words. “But it’s charming.”

“That’s me.” He retorted wryly, grinning as Keith laughed again and patted his back in an attempt to comfort him.

They soon walked back out of the bathroom, Keith’s lips breaking into a shit-eating grin as they found Hunk, Allura and Pidge hanging out at the front desk.

“He survived!” Pidge exclaimed as they noticed the two, drawing the others’ attention to them.

“You’re a real hero, Keith.” Hunk followed, wiping a non-existent tear from under his eye.

“Please, guys,” Keith held up his hands before gesturing towards Shiro, “Shiro’s the true warrior today.” He snickered as Shiro gave him a withering side-eye.

“Tell us, Shiro. Did you see the light at the end of the tunnel?” Allura asked, resting her elbow on the counter while barely maintaining a fake passive expression.

“I did, and anybody who walks in there in the next couple of hours will see it too.” He grimaced.

“It’s true. I’m a victim.” Keith said seriously.

“ _Gross_.” Pidge groaned along with the others, Keith and Shiro laughing loudly at their reaction. They stood there, chatting away at the counter, until Coran came along to shoo them.

“I don’t pay you to sit around and talk!” He exclaimed, flicking the back of Shiro’s head as he walked past.

“You don’t pay me at all, Coran.” Pidge pointed out, their grin widening as Coran attempted to fix them with his idea of a strict look.

“Well, keep distracting my employees and both you and Allura will be banned from this place.” He warned, returning to the floor before anyone could reply.

“He would sell me for a half-eaten apple before he considers banning either of you.” Shiro looked dismayed as he pushed himself off the counter and stretched, a couple of joints popping in the process.

“Don’t worry, Shiro. He still loves you.” Hunk assured him, patting his arm sympathetically.

“Though he might not anymore, once he finds out you stank up the bathroom.” Allura grinned, snickering with Pidge, who still seemed equally amused by what had happened.

“I’m going to maturely ignore all of you now and get back to work.” Shiro narrowed his eyes, walking away. He was momentarily alone, before he was joined by Keith at his side.

“Coran will definitely kick our asses if he sees us chatting.” He warned as he picked up his water bottle where he had left it.

“I’m the new kid, he’ll only kick _your_ ass.” Keith shrugged. “But it _has_ gone through a difficult ordeal just now, so let’s give it some rest.” He grinned, narrowly avoiding the smack Shiro sent his way as he laughed and walked away, starting up a conversation with one of the clients.

Looking down at his phone, Shiro opened up the chat again, scrolling through the messages before reaching the end of it, where it read:

                              **_*pidgepodge changed Keith Kogane’s nickname to the poop paladin*_**

Smirking, he sent off a thumbs-up, then got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is that person in the squad who's too nice to get mad at the others for always roasting him and they all know it. also who else is here for Keith joining their dope squad? he's fitting right in i'm proud of my boy.
> 
> but for real. this one was kind of tough for me to write. there were a lot of decisions and directions to go with it and although the scenes themselves turned out to be really fun, i was still ALWAYS thinking on overdrive. so yeah PLEASE let me know what you think, what you hate or like, etc. any kind of feedback is really helpful for me as a writer! also if you ever have ideas, prompts, or just wanna ramble about these gym losers please never hesitate to talk to me on here or my tumblr (@k0fta), especially because it really helps me get inspired and motivated about writing more.
> 
> I APPRECIATE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you forgive me for turning this into a slow-burn :')
> 
> Shiro is 100% a nerd who unironically does a thumbs-up irl and i love him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's feelings grow stronger, and what's on Keith's mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you to @redlionkeifth for putting up with me rambling and worrying and changing things in this chapter a million times. You're awesome!

When Shiro really took the time to consider it, it wasn’t such a big surprise that the embarrassments he brought to himself whenever Keith seemed to be around wouldn’t stop, though he was hoping that would be the case after the poop incident the week before. As it turned out, he was in for a new one as he felt his feet get kicked out from under him, and all he really knew was that he was _flying_.

The moment Keith had mentioned the wrestling thing to Coran, after Shiro prompted him endlessly and forced the conversation to start, Coran quickly set out to set up a few combat based programs within the gym. He’d trapped Keith with him in the staff room for hours on end for an entire week, careful to take the man’s consul about what he could and couldn’t teach, and what arrangement of programs would make more sense, both for Keith’s stamina and the customers who chose to attend several of them.

By the end, the two had come up with three programs, body-combat, wrestling, self-defense, and kickboxing, which both Thace and Keith had enough experience in to combine their knowledge and come out with a decent beginner’s program.

Shiro was happy to see this all come to life, both in the gym and in Keith’s eyes, who would excitedly chatter about his plans whenever he and Shiro would hang out on the steps leading to the gym, sipping on their smoothies or eating out of their Tupperwares whenever they became fed up with the closed spaces of the gym.

The openness in Keith’s behavior around him had initially shocked Shiro, who had observed Keith enough to know that he was generally quiet and reserved in his interactions. He wasn’t loud with Shiro, not really, but he was willing to contribute to the conversation without seeming stressed about it, and that warmed Shiro’s heart in a strange way that he refused to investigate or dig into.

Keith’s comfort around Shiro had extended further, to him asking Shiro to be his demonstration buddy during the first few classes, where he’d perform the move on Shiro first before allowing the students to attempt. And this, was why Shiro was currently on the ground, dazed, and trying to blink back clear vision into his eyes as Keith stood above him.

“Now, although this move can stun someone for quiet a while, as you can see with Shiro, it’s not going to work with somebody who’s much larger or stronger than you. If you’re 5 feet tall and weighing 90 pounds, don’t rest your hopes on using this to knock out a 6-foot 200-pound man. Use your brain, weigh your options.” Keith explained, his voice commanding as the students around him nodded. Quite a few people had shown up for the self-defense class, mostly women who attended their gym usually, which wasn’t unusual for the area that the gym was located in. Assaults happened, and everybody in the neighborhood wanted to make sure they would be safe.

“Are you good?” Keith lowered his voice, kneeling over Shiro with an expression conveying both concern and amusement. Shiro groaned, nodding, which caused the other man to grin and stand back up.

Shiro had only momentarily regained his footing and with it, his dignity, when Keith was once again sending him to the ground, this time in an arm lock that had Shiro wishing his right arm would fall right off and free him from the pain. He was aware of himself expressing a series of _ow_ ’s with a vigor, which had the people watching in giggles. He had a feeling it also had to do with the fact that a man as tiny as Keith was really, truly, subduing a man as big as Shiro.

The course went on, with Shiro occasionally being needed for demonstrations or for practice as the group was an odd number and required an extra person for pairs. He wasn’t all that happy about having to block punches and different attempts of subduing from students, but he couldn’t complain when Keith’s slender fingers would take hold of his hand, or arm, or leg, gently guiding them into correct positioning. At one point, Keith had rested his hand on his thigh, ordering him to keep his knee bent and locked, and Shiro had nearly passed out as his heart jumped to what felt like 200 bpi a second. When Keith had moved on, Shiro glanced back at him, catching his gaze on him and blushing all the way to his collarbones as Keith’s eyes caught his, a smirk full of _so much_ growing on the shorter man’s lips.

Turning back to his training partner, he gladly accepted her next attempt at attack, letting her throw him to the ground. He was fucked.

* * *

“Look, Allura, I don’t _just_ like him.” Shiro whined, his hand anxiously going through his hair for the millionth time. “I _really_ like him.”

“Sorry,” Allura blinked at him a few times. “Déjà vu to the seventh grade.” She rolled her eyes as he glared pointedly at her. “Just ask him out! I bet my ass he’s counting down the seconds for you to do it.”

“But what if I’m misreading it all? What if he doesn’t actually like me like that? What if he doesn’t like anyone like that?” Shiro frowned, biting onto his nail, a habit he only lapsed into when he was too anxious to restrain it, which was often the case when Keith was involved.

After the class had ended, Shiro had all but rushed out, grabbing his water bottle and his towel and bolting before Keith could be released by the many students who had approached him to talk. He’d felt a pang of guilt, knowing the man hated nothing else but to be cornered in a conversation with a million people, but he needed a change of air, air that had less of Keith in the vicinity, and had rushed out of the gym doors onto the street.

He’d found Allura there, smoking a cigarette with Thace, who silently read Shiro’s state and slapped him on the back sympathetically, ashing his cigarette and going back inside to allow the two their privacy.

The smoke from Allura’s next cigarette irritated Shiro’s nostrils, and he scrunched his nose up as he held in a sneeze.

“ _Allura_ , help!” He groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him.

“Look, Shiro. If you want my opinion, I say he really likes you too, otherwise why would he be chatting you up all the time?”

“He’s not chatting me up, he’s just talking to me, cause I’m his _friend_.” Shiro responded.

“And who decided that? Did he ever call you his friend? No. You’re the one who put yourself in that box all on your own.” Allura raised her eyebrow at him, and he knew she was right. He was just too afraid to think he was anything else, anything more. “Ask him out. He says no, you’ll know for sure it’s no dice, and you can continue on living. He says yes, you get the pretty man of your dreams, and you guys can stop being so ridiculous and finally fuck in the locker room.”

“That’s not- we’re not- I don’t want to-“

“Don’t want to fuck him right here in the gym? Please, Shiro. If you didn’t, I’d say you’re insane. You and him are literally the embodiment of the word gym, I’m sure that fantasy isn’t only in your heads.” She tapped the cigarette in her hand more gracefully than he’d ever seen anybody do it, the ashes flying off and onto the ground. He was still sputtering when she blew out the smoke in her lungs, grinning at him. “Stop doubting yourself. You’re a catch, Shiro. And I know he knows that too.”

Shiro stayed silent, looking away to observe the cars passing them by, the bass in some shaking their entire exterior as they trudged along. “How should I do it?”

“Hmm,” Allura hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully for a few seconds as she considered options for him. He was grateful that she never shut him down, never told him to deal with his own shit. She seemed to understand that he sometimes needed somebody else to be in control for him, to weigh the options with their risks and benefits and offer him the best outcome. She understood that panic was always just a few thoughts away for him, and she gently helped him skip over the many episodes he would otherwise stumble on alone. “Maybe we'll all go out sometime, and you two can slip away and talk alone like you always do-“

“We don’t do that!” Shiro defended.

“You do, and it’s fine. When you do, ask him.” She shrugged, as if it was the simplest solution in the world. As if it wasn’t the worst thing he wanted to happen, for him to be alone, with Keith, and confront him about his feelings.

“How’s that any different than just asking him here?” He frowned.

“It’s not. But it’ll give you time to stop being a bitch baby and put your big boy pants on and ask him tonight.” She grinned, crushing the cigarette under her foot. “I gotta get my workout in before I have to go to the art studio, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed his cheek softly, pushing herself off the wall that Shiro was still leaning on and disappearing up the stairs.

* * *

Later, Shiro found himself hunched over a program sheet with Hunk, discussing it with a client. Apparently, he’d assigned the woman exercises that she found too easy, and wanted something more difficult. He was in the midst of explaining to her that he didn’t want her to overload her muscles when she was just starting out, for fear of winding up with an injury, when he caught Keith passing by from the corner of his eye, never failing to spot the man when he was wearing those merciless tights that failed to hide any curve of his legs. He cleared his throat, turning back to the woman, and telling her that Hunk would handle it.

He could feel the man’s betrayed eyes on him as he handed him the program sheet, clapping him on the back and rushing away to follow Keith into the locker room. He knew that it was the end of the younger man’s shift, and hoped that Keith wasn’t already stripped down and in the shower as he walked in.

As it turned out, Keith was still clad in the black tights, but his shirt was off. His back was turned to Shiro, its muscles rippling under smooth, pale skin as the man worked to get his shower necessities out of his designated locker. He turned around as he heard the door to the bathroom swing back shut, eyes wide with curiosity regarding the newcomer’s identity before softening, a hesitant smile reaching his lips as he turned to face Shiro.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Keith began. Shiro noticed him wrap his arms against his chest, his stance a little less comfortable that it usually was around Shiro. A little more guarded than Shiro liked.

“I’m fine, though that client out there was really grilling me.” He chuckled nervously, his hand scratching at the back of his head. He saw the hint of a smirk pull at the side of Keith’s lips.

“I’m glad. Sorry I roughed you up a bit too much today, had to make it realistic so they’d learn well, you know.” Keith apologized, relaxing a bit more as Shiro laughed at that.

“I’ll admit, a few of those moves really got me.” He grinned. “I think they really liked the class.”

“Yeah, they, uh, they told me. Cornered me for a good ten minutes after to make a point of it too.” Keith grimaced, turning his gaze to the floor. He quieted down, and Shiro was just about to attempt at another awkward exchange, before Keith’s eyes were back on him, vulnerable, as if he was about to say something he knew was risky, but something in Shiro pushed him to interrupt it before it began.

“Uh, anyway, I don’t wanna take up too much of your time.” That was something he knew Keith would hate him to say, considering they spent most of their time together when they weren’t doing their jobs. “I just…wanted to apologize for not having lunch with you today, I was- um, busy.” Shiro blushed. He had wanted to say more. So much more. He could see Keith resisting the urge to laugh, or frown, or both, keeping his face as neutral as possible. Which he knew Keith wasn’t too unfamiliar with, but he hated that he was pushing him to do that around him.

“Oh. You don’t have to apologize for that.” Keith’s lashes fluttered as he looked towards the ground again, the tension in his body unrelenting. “We’ll have lunch together tomorrow.” He added.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Shiro grinned, feeling warmth pool right on top of his stomach as he saw Keith’s pursed lips turn into a smile. A fragile kind, the kind that didn’t know what to do with itself. 

“Cool.” Keith finally responded, Shiro blinking his eyes as he remembered he’d been silent for too long. He seemed to do that far too much around the younger man.

“Yeah.” Shiro cleared his throat. “Cool.” He parroted, wanting to slap himself. He began backing away, his guts feeling like jelly as he attempted to make his exit. Without having said anything he _actually_ wanted to say. “Um, see ya?” He tried sheepishly, turning his back to Keith reluctantly as he made for the door.

“Wait.” Keith called loudly, surprising both of them with the intensity in his voice. Shiro turned back, looking at the man questioningly. There was something right under the surface of the expression on Keith’s face, an expression that could barely contain all the conflict that seemed to lie behind it. Shiro wanted to understand what it all meant, but he just blinked patiently at the man. “Is that… all you came here to say?” His voice sounded small, much smaller than Keith’s voice had ever been. Shiro bit his lower lip anxiously, wondering if this was the right moment, the right time. He wanted to just say it already so badly, but he found himself nodding, breaking out into a badly constructed grin.

“Yeah, what else could I want to say?” He laughed nervously, feeling relief as Keith laughed a few moments after him too.

“Right. Sorry.” Keith smiled, though it looked more like a grimace from where Shiro stood, and looked away again. “Um, thanks for apologizing.”

“No problem.” Shiro frowned. The man wasn’t looking towards him again. He wanted to add something, something that’d make Keith smile, really smile, but he came up blank. The silence was unyielding as he stood frozen, wishing he were brave enough to do those leaps of faith one saw on chick flicks.

 “Okay, I’m gonna take a shower now, so…” Keith interrupted his thoughts before he could muster up a drop of guts, pointing towards the shower.

“Oh, right.” Shiro let out a short laugh. “Sorry, I’m so dumb. Of course. See you tomorrow?” He asked again, the hopefulness in his tone far too obvious to miss on Keith’s part. He saw the man smile softly and nod, feeling a little relief, even though he knew he _had_ to see him tomorrow anyway. They were coworkers, Keith confirming this wasn’t anything special. He tried to tell himself that, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was special anyway.

“Awesome!” He exclaimed, knowing he sounded far too enthusiastic as he walked away and out of the door.

He wished he could stop fucking everything up.

* * *

Waiting for his lunchbreak had never felt so torturous. Shiro had hardly seen Keith this morning, having been unexplainably replaced by Thace in Keith’s morning classes. Even when he did see Keith, when the man was rushing to the bathroom to freshen up and change out of sweaty clothes, the man would look away, hurrying as if he had a secret that could be gleaned by Shiro if their eyes made contact.

It made him on edge. He’d already barked at a client who was half-assing their workout once already, apologizing profusely once he’d realized that he’d done that. The man had told him not to worry, saying that he’d deserved the criticism, but all Shiro heard was that he needed to control himself better. Soon, Keith would be noticing his behavior, and the last thing he wanted was to scare Keith away.

He felt himself release air he didn’t know he was holding when the clock finally read 12 pm, but just as soon as that release had arrived, the tension wound itself around his chest all over again. He saw Keith descend from the floor upstairs with Thace, a smile on the man’s face as Thace made a comment Shiro couldn’t quite hear. He could feel jealousy flare up within him, and tried to reason with it as the two made their way into the bathroom.

_They’re just changing._ He reminded himself. Why would they be doing anything else?

He stood, grumbling near the reception desk, where Hunk was having a lengthy phone call with someone he had told Coran was a potential client, but who Shiro had figured out was one of Hunk’s gaming buddies. He tried to distract himself with studying the label on a protein jar that was currently sponsoring their gym, but found his eyes trailing back to the bathroom entrance expectantly.

“You look like you’re about to bust an artery, buddy.” Hunk commented as he clicked the phone’s _Off_ button. “You okay? Drank too much pre-workout?”

“No.” Shiro responded, realizing he sounded far too grumpy even as he said it. He sighed. “Sorry, I’m just really tense today.”

“Yeah, no shit. You need to just come out with it, Shiro.” Hunk said.

“And what, freak him out?” Shiro shook his head. “You saw him just now, he didn’t even look at me. Maybe I’m just a friend. Maybe he has a thing with Thace?” He bit his lower lip. It was chapped at this point; his endless gnawing having worn it out.

“If you think he’s actually doing anything with Thace, then Allura might be right to call you an idiot.” Hunk rolled his eyes. “Look, Shiro. He has lunch everyday with _you_ not Thace, and guess what? Whenever he comes in late, he asks if you’re here. Not me, not Coran, not Thace. You.”

“I-“

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Hunk silenced him, Shiro blinking in surprise. Who even was this? He’d never been lectured by Hunk before. “What you need to do right now is get your act together, because Keith just left that bathroom, and your bitter ass is _not_ going to ruin his lunchbreak. Be nice, Shiro. And, I don’t know, step up and tell him already.” He shrugged in his chair, reaching for another m &m from the bowl in front of him and popping it in his mouth.

Shiro sighed, eyeing Hunk warily. He didn’t have much time to think about or react to the man’s words as Keith reached him, and instead tucked away Hunk’s speech for later examination. He smiled weakly as he walked alongside Keith, the two heading out of the gym’s open glass doors.

“What was that about?” Keith looked back at where Hunk was seated. “Hunk looked _mad_. And that sounds weird just saying it.”

“I lost a couple of clients’ folders and he was giving me hell for it.” Shiro lied easily, shouting _ow_ as Keith slapped him upside the head. “It was by accident!”

“Coran would kill you if he found out.” Keith stated simply, laughing at Shiro’s sudden horror as the man groaned. The two stepped out of the elevator, making their way to their regular step.

“If I died for Hunk, it would be a noble death.” Shiro responded genuinely, watching Keith widen his eyes and nod solemnly. He smiled, warmed by the fact that the man could be so expressive around him.

“Sooo, we _are_ going to grab some of those corndogs today right?” Keith gestured towards the street vendor opposite from where they sat, the smell of greasy hot dogs wafting all the way across the street towards them.

“You wish.” Shiro’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he retrieved two bento boxes from his backpack, each stocked full of rice, chicken breast, and a variety of vegetables. He’d developed the habit of making lunches for both of them, once he’d realized just how lazy Keith was about cooking his own food, and how willing the man was when it came to eating trash like instant ramen or greasy food off the street.

“I trusted you.” Keith groaned even as he accepted his box from Shiro, leaning back dramatically where he sat. He was trying very hard to sway Shiro with his pout, and the older man laughed in response.

“I’m sorry, Keith. We’re trainers. If we let ourselves go, what would our clients do?” He tried to reason, laughing even harder as Keith huffed, maintaining his pout as he quietly ate his food. “Are you going to keep ignoring me?”

“No, because this is good.” Keith gestured towards the box with his fork, a smirk on his face. “But you haven’t won yet, I’ll have the last laugh.” He threatened, a bite of chicken tucked into his cheek making him look too adorable to Shiro to truly intimidate. He was looking at the vendor still, reminding Shiro of the way predators stalked their prey on the planet earth episodes Shiro watched when he couldn’t sleep. He chuckled.

“I’m sure you will.” He smiled genuinely. This felt natural, stress-free. If he ignored all the things he was dying to say to Keith, that is. So, he continued to do that. “How was your class today? Was Thace a worthy replacement?”

Keith hummed, chewing some food in his mouth before he answered. “He wasn’t as fun.” Shiro felt something cocky in him stir, and made sure to keep his face neutral. “He knew how to avoid landing on the ground so much, so it was a lot less funny. A few people asked where you were.”

“What did you tell them?” Shiro asked, curious. He himself didn’t know why he hadn’t been asked to help again, though he knew, logically, that Coran was probably behind it. He wondered if Coran knew about his feelings towards Keith at all, he hadn’t spoken to his mentor in a long time.

“That you were busy icing the bruises on your ass from all the falls it took yesterday.” Keith grinned, laughing as Shiro pushed his shoulder as gently as he could, which obviously barely even shook the man, let alone move him from his place. He kept forgetting how strong Keith was, how he probably could hand Shiro’s ass to him on any given day.

“Hey, I can handle more than that!” Shiro cried in disgrace, knowing as he said it that he couldn’t. Getting up from bed today had been the hardest thing his tailbone had done in a long time.

“Sure.” Keith grinned, avoiding another shove from Shiro as he forked out the rest of the chicken from his box and eating it dutifully.

The two got up some twenty minutes later, realizing that they only had five more minutes to make it back up to the gym. Shiro rolled his eyes as Keith handed his box back to him, all the green vegetables within it left untouched.

“You know you need to eat your vegetables, Keith.” He droned, closing the box and tucking it back into his bag.

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time, Shiro.” Keith responded, shrugging as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. Shiro shook his head, and just as Keith made to lead the way back up, he grabbed his forearm, stopping him in his track.

Keith turned back to him, a questioning look on his face.

“Wait here.” Shiro instructed, smiling reassuringly as Keith’s face grew ever more curious. Shiro ran-walk away and towards the vendor. He paid the old woman there quickly, running back to Keith with two corndogs held up in his hands like little flags. He could see Keith’s shoulders shaking as he chuckled, accepting the two corndogs from Shiro as he offered them.

“Both?” Keith asked, surprised as Shiro handed the two corndogs over.

“Junk food is only good if you have two of it.” He explained, grinning as Keith’s eyebrows shot up, as if he hadn’t expected that sentence to ever come from Shiro. Shiro didn’t blame him, he tried to maintain an image of health around people in the gym.

“My hero.” He proclaimed, a teasing tone in his voice even as a strange look passed over his features. They started on their way back to the elevator, the blush on Shiro’s face unyielding as he walked beside the man. He tried to reason with his thoughts, tried to tell himself that it was a regular thing to say between friends, and anyway, what kind of hero would save people with corndogs? But as he stood in the elevator, watching Keith devour his second corndog, he knew any voice of reason had left the building a long time ago.

Because Keith had called him his hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all thought you were getting a confession, but not before these two suffer with awkward interactions that are so clearly couple-y *evil laugh*.
> 
> So sorry for taking literally months to update this, I had ZERO inspiration for all my fics and it was so frustrating, but we back in this, and hopefully more consistently this time.
> 
> All feedback/suggestions/ideas/etc are appreciated, I love hearing from you guys and it always motivates me so much!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise, and Shiro and Keith gather up some courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around!! Hope you like this one, and if you want you can follow me on tumblr @k0fta if you'd like to talk or scream about those two a little (I know I always do).

Things were getting weirder between Shiro and Keith, and Shiro couldn’t make any sense of it whatsoever. At times, it felt like being around each other was the most natural thing in the world. They could talk for hours, watch each other’s favorite vines during lunchbreaks, and argue about all topics, and still feel like they hadn’t had enough of any of it. Sometimes, Coran would have to come into the room they occupied and shoo them out so they’d return to the floor and do their actual jobs.

And despite all that, sometimes Shiro felt like they both couldn’t wait to get out of each other’s presence. As if just being in the same vicinity felt like a fiery insect sting, and the only way to relieve it was to avoid each other. On those days, any conversation they attempted would fall apart on itself within a few minutes, and they would be left with a silence that neither of them knew how to get out of.

Not that Shiro hated silence with Keith. He loved it. Whenever they both had the late-night shift they would sit together, alone and too tired to remain excited about much at all, and it would feel more like coming home for Shiro than when he got to take his clothes off and hop into the shower in his own apartment at the end of that night.

He was currently watching Keith rush to Lance’s aid, helping him hoist up a weight he definitely had not been prepared to carry. He smiled, watching the scowl form on Keith’s face as he berated the younger man. It reminded him of the time Keith had saved him with the bench press, a topic Keith himself never let him forget whenever he pretended he didn’t need help with unloading or moving any weights.

“Hey, Shiro, will you move away from my desk and stop infecting it with your love sickness? Thanks.” Hunk’s voice came up from behind him, causing him to narrow his eyes at the man as he settled into his office chair with a tall smoothie in hand.

“Gave up on the low-carb stuff you were doing?” Shiro changed the subject, raising an eyebrow as Hunk sipped at the straw. Hunk had never been one to participate much in the cutting and bulking culture in most gyms, but he’d recently started trying to go for a high-fat, high-protein diet, which Shiro speculated was only so he could excuse eating more red meats during his everyday life.

“I kept losing at Mario Kart yesterday, so my roommate made me eat a cookie. I realized sugar is too good to cancel out of my life just yet.” He took another large sip, letting out a loud sigh once he was satisfied. Shiro chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well don’t go too crazy. We’re going out tonight, and I’m pretty sure bar drinks aren’t too diet-friendly.”

“Shiro, some of us like to live a little. It’s not like you compete anymore, why do you worry so much about macros still?”

“You used to compete?” Keith’s voice reached Shiro before he registered him at his side, the man sounding way too enthusiastic at this newfound knowledge. Shiro groaned, glaring at Hunk, before pushing himself off of the reception desk.

“Yeah, but I don’t do that anymore.” He shrugged. He saw danger coming before Keith could speak again, as he glimpsed the glimmer of curiosity in the man’s dark-brown eyes. He had questions, ones that Shiro didn’t want to talk about on this fine afternoon.

“Why-“

“You know what, I actually have to go.” Shiro pointed randomly at the floor. “Clients, lifting, you know.” He laughed nervously, grimacing as Keith turned to look at the floor, then back at him with even more questions in his expression. He could see the engines running at full speed now in Keith’s head, and before anyone could point out to him that 1) the floor was nearly empty right now, and 2) none of his clients were currently there, he ran off.

“What’s wrong with him?” He heard Keith mutter to Hunk as he walked away from them, envisioning Hunk’s shrug as he responded with “Iunno”.

 _Fuck._ Shiro thought, turning his frustration onto rearranging the dumbbell rack from lightest on top, to heaviest on bottom.

 _This needs to stop_.

* * *

 

“So let me get this straight,” Allura began as she carried a 45lb weight to her favorite deadlifting spot, adding it onto 2 others that were already on one end of the bar. Shiro had tried to offer to spot her earlier while she squatted, but a look of pure disdain from her was enough to reduce him to a chatting partner while she took breaks between sets. He watched her click the clasp on tight, before she faced him again, her fingers rubbing at the blisters on the inside of her palms. “You think the best thing you can do for Keith is to _avoid_ him? What are you, twelve?”

“What?” Shiro felt attacked.

“Dude, _he likes you_. It’s so fucking obvious that it makes the rest of us kinda wanna throw up whenever the two of you are together. But if I know one thing about Keith, he’s not the kind of person who’d appreciate a weird cat and mouse thing. If you pull a disappearing act on him, he’s going to get hurt.”

“But he’s getting hurt right now!” Shiro cried, looking around to assure himself that Keith was still too far to overhear them, then remembering that he was instructing another class right now. He waited for Allura to finish her set, letting the sound of the belt on her waist unclicking assure him that he had her attention again. “I just don’t think I’m the best thing for him.”

“Shouldn’t you let him decide that?” Allura asked.

“I-“

“Your problem, Shiro, is that you don’t think you deserve happiness.” Allura said bluntly, her hands going to readjust her ponytail. “But have any of us agreed with you on that, ever? No.”

“I don’t think I-“

“Yes, you do, and you make sure any chance at happiness passes you by. We all know this. But here’s a chance for you to change that, man. I say grab it.” She said it so simply, as if what she was suggesting was the easiest thing to do in the world. As if Shiro could overcome everything that kept him up, that held him back, just like that. She seemed to realize the mistake she’d made a few beats later, rounding to tell him that it didn’t mean she didn’t understand where he was coming from, but by then he was already stalking away and out the gym doors.

* * *

 

On his way back, Shiro bumped right into Keith, catching the man at the end of a phone call. He groaned internally, wishing he could be cruel enough to turn around and walk back out, but he couldn’t do that to Keith. That was too douchey, even compared to how he was generally acting lately.

Keith turned to face Shiro, jumping in surprise and nearly dropping his phone. “Fuck. Hey.” He sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair. He hadn’t showered after the class he’d just given, Shiro guessed. “Where have you been?”

“I went on a walk. It helps me clear my head.” Shiro nodded to the hand that still held Keith’s phone. “Are you okay? Who was that?”

“Oh. It’s…nothing.” Keith shook his head, as if trying to convince himself that it was nothing worth the headspace it had clearly occupied. Shiro advanced, a frown on his face as he reached for Keith’s forearm, drawing the man’s eyes back to his face.

“Keith, you can always talk to me.” He spoke softly. Keith’s face changed, from vulnerable to annoyed to guarded in a few seconds, and the smaller man pulled away from his grip.

“Right. But you can never talk to me?” He glared, then seemed to feel bad for the expression painted on Shiro’s features and averted his eyes to glare at the floor beneath them instead.

“Keith-“

“Shiro, something’s been up with you for the past week and I’m trying to get you to talk to me but all you do is get mad-“

“I’m not mad, Keith, please-“

“Then what’s going on?” The man lifted his eyes back to meet Shiro’s, his gaze harder and colder than Shiro had ever personally experienced.

“I…I can’t tell you.” Shiro sighed, lowering his head in defeat. He couldn’t do that to Keith. He couldn’t get in a relationship with a man so perfect, when he was this broken himself. He’d hate himself, and Keith would surely hate him too. Keith was silent for a few beats, and then he spoke, his voice more choked than it was normally.

“Okay, just, forget it.” Keith began to walk away and back into the gym, his back muscles twitching with tension.

“Keith, wait!” Shiro called, frustrated as the man kept his back turned to him. “Keith, come on.”

“What?” Keith turned, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh-“ Shiro realized this was probably even more insensitive than not saying anything at all. “Pidge got really good grades this semester and we wanted to go to the bar down the street and celebrate them tonight.” He winced, noticing the twitch in Keith’s eyebrow. He was _pissed_ at him at this point.

“Pidge? They’re not even legal.” He blinked at Shiro.

“Oh, yeah, they only drink soda there, but there’s good food too.” Shiro explained. Keith seemed to be considering it for a second, his expression battling between the fury that remained within him and the curiosity sparked by the outing. He seemed to become aware of the few moments of silence that had lapsed, and he quickly nodded, blinking himself back out of his thoughts.

“I’ll see if I can make it.” Keith nodded stiffly.

“Great!” Shiro clapped his hands together, trying for cheeriness after he’d brought Keith’s mood down to the gutter. A glare shot his way made him think twice and drop the forced smile on his lips. He was not Keith’s favorite person right now.

 _I deserve it_ , he thought.

* * *

They were sitting in their usual booth at the bar, Allura and Hunk sipping their choice of alcoholic beverage, while Pidge nursed their lemon coke begrudgingly. They’d begged with the others to buy them a beer at least, but none were budging. Shiro himself was never a fan of drinking, having experienced firsthand how quickly it could become a crutch for much larger issues.

He took another sip from his own virgin St. Clement, wincing at its acidic taste. Hunk’s and Pidge’s friend from the gym, Lance, had recommended it, but Shiro should have known that somebody as upbeat as the man seemed to be would choose something this… startling. He still appreciated the advice, mainly because he found the man entertaining. Keith had told him that the man could grow irritating once an hour had passed in his company, but Shiro was starting to think that Keith just liked his silence to be maintained.

The others were chattering, discussing the new stunt Kylie Jenner was getting up to, but Shiro could not concentrate on the conversation for the life of him, and it wasn’t because he found the Kardashians less than compelling. He was just far too nervous, far too distracted, watching the door like a hawk and tensing up every time somebody walked.

“Shiro, you’re giving me anxiety.” Pidge finally spoke to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Who’re we waiting for?” Lance asked.

“Keith. But _Shiro_ needs to get it together before he gets here.” Allura glared at him from where she sat.

“Why are you nervous? Isn’t he your boyfriend?” Lance frowned, biting into an onion ring as soon as the waitress lowered it onto the table.

“What makes you think that?” Shiro asked a little too loudly, which Allura definitely let him know as she slapped his head with a hissed _Calm down_.

“Oh. Well, you two are always making eyes at each other, and he legit forgets to tell me what to do next whenever he’s stuck staring at you.” Lance snickered. “I always tease him for that and he gets _so_ mad.”

“Hey, I do that with Shiro and he gets mad too!” Pidge laughed, high fiving Lance.

“Do what?” Keith’s voice reached the table before he did, approaching them from Shiro’s blindside. The bar had a backdoor, Shiro quickly remembered as his mind momentarily considered superhuman apparition abilities.

“Um.” Pidge and Lance froze, smiling far too widely at Keith as Hunk exclaimed _Keith! Hi!_ In a tone that was far too cheery. The man furrowed his eyebrows in amused confusion, tapping Shiro’s arm with pale fingers. It took Shiro a second to realize he was gesturing for him to make space in the booth, surprised the man wanted to sit next to him at all after their interaction earlier that day, and he quickly squeezed in closer to Allura, who made a noise that sounded like stifled complains.

“Did you guys already order?” Keith asked, trying to save the two from frying their brains as they tried to come up with an answer. He was smirking, his usual cocky expression on as he observed the two visibly relax. He still hadn’t directly looked at Shiro, who was already struggling to look anywhere else but at Keith’s face.

It was ridiculous. He’d sat next to Keith before, had chatted with Keith before, and had managed to do it without imploding, but right now, his internal system was blaring its alarms, a red alert that had him struggling to breathe normally and keep his fingers still.

He tried to sit as still as possible, stay as focused as possible. He could feel the conversation around him move while he stayed stuck, and he eventually realized he was having a panic attack. He glanced at Allura, who was watching him closely, and before she could say anything he was clearing his throat and standing straight up, knocking the table as he loudly proclaimed that he needed to use the toilet.

Keith stepped out of the booth for him, watching him curiously as Shiro stormed towards the bathroom, maintaining his calm as best as he could. Internally, he was angry at himself for losing control. He knew Keith had nothing to do with his trauma, and yet his brain seemed to find any source of stress an immediate threat and went into its dysfunctional survival mode. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as he nearly crashed into a man exiting the bathroom and sighed a great sigh of relief as he finally stepped into a cubicle, letting its door swing shut behind him.

He sat on the toilet seat, his hands gripping its edges as if his life relied on it. His vision swam, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and he willed his eyes closed. He tried to imagine his therapist’s voice, guiding him through a mindfulness practice. He forced himself to take a deep breath in, counting in his head as he held it, before breathing it out slowly. Repeating it, Shiro slowly allowed his mind to focus on his current state. He made himself envision the feeling in his toes, up his knees, thighs, then abdomen, before tracking its flow across his chest and down his two arms. He twitched his fingers softly, focusing on the feeling of the movement, the feeling of the cold surface of the toilet under them.

When the sound of the door to the bathroom interrupted his flow, he found that he had succeeded in pushing the attack to subside. He could feel its remaining effects in the twitching of his muscles, the tension still locked within them as he blinked his eyes open. A knock came.

“Shiro?” It was Keith. There was the hesitation from that afternoon still tinging his voice, but he was now speaking much softer than Shiro had ever heard him speak.

“Keith, hey.” Shiro cleared his throat, his voice cracking from the tightness his throat had experienced a few minutes ago. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back at the table in a minute.”

“Can I come in?” Keith asked, Shiro blinking stupidly in response. It wasn’t a surprise that Keith was smart enough to figure out he wasn’t taking a leak for a whole ten minutes, but he still hadn’t expected him to be so suddenly forward with him. He nodded, before realizing the man couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, unsure why even as he said it. Something in him told him it was okay for Keith to see him like this, even when nobody else was allowed to. There was no logic to it, no basis for this feeling. He’d known many of his friends for years now, but would never trust them as much as he trusted Keith in that moment.

He unlocked the door to his cubicle and it swung open, Keith standing there with concern in his eyes. Shiro tried his best at a smile, hoping to reassure the man that he was fine.

“Does this happen a lot?” Keith asked, a soft hush in his voice that Shiro still couldn’t comprehend, but knew he loved hearing. It felt as secret as all those parts of Keith the man avoided telling, and he hoped he was the only one to be at the receiving end of that kind of care from Keith, even as he reasoned that that was probably impossible.

“More than I care to admit.” Shiro shrugged, sighing and letting his back rest against the wall, the pipe from the toilet uncomfortably wedged between his shoulder blades. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it’d happen. If I did I would have never asked you to come and witness this-“

“Stop.” Keith said firmly, a finality to his tone that had Shiro halting the apologies in his head. “I can’t say I relate to how you feel, but I understand that this is out of your control. I’m not here to collect an apology, Shiro, even though you _were_ kind of a dick today. Look, I care about you.” His cheeks took on a red quality as he spoke his last few words, looking uncomfortable in his own skin as he said them, even as he kept his eyes trained on Shiro’s face. All Shiro could do was blush in return, nodding jerkily, a neural pathway or two short-circuiting at the words, even when he knew they could easily be platonic ones. “So, are you okay?”

“I-“ Shiro stopped short of saying his generic _I’m fine_. Keith deserved more than that. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I am, but then the slightest thing happens, and it feels like I’ve lost all control. I can’t do anything, even if I know exactly what I have to do, I just… run away.” He looked back up at Keith, wondering if the man understood what he meant at all.

“Is that why you kept avoiding me the past while?” Keith asked, catching Shiro off-guards. He knew Keith had felt it, knew the man was clever enough to notice Shiro’s bizarre behavior, and he felt a twinge of guilt in his chest.

“N-no. Well, yes, but-“ Shiro sighed, shaking his head as if he were trying to rattle the words within it into a coherent sentence. “I- okay.” He took a deep breath in, releasing it shakily. He could do this, Allura had told him it was the best thing he could do.  “Look, Keith. I like you?” He laughed nervously, looking away from the man to stare down at his worn out converse shoes instead. “Like, more than a friend. I have for a while, since you came to our gym. And I just, I didn’t want to tell you because it made me so nervous, and I wasn’t sure if you’d ever be interested too, and now that I’m saying this I feel like I’m sounding dumb and I don’t blame you if you just start laughing at me.” Shiro slowed down as he noticed Keith’s silence. He lifted his head, frowning. “Keith?”

What he saw was the one reaction he hadn’t been expecting, the one he hadn’t imagined while constructing this scenario in his mind. Although to be fair, he’d never expected that he’d be sitting on a rusty toilet seat when he confessed to the man.

Keith was blushing, furiously. His skin was pink from the cheeks down, disappearing under the collar of his t-shirt, his hand wringing the other anxiously. His eyes darted away when Shiro’s settled on them, glancing from one item to another in the bathroom as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Fuck.” Shiro groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing. You’re so clearly uncomfortable, shit, I _told_ Allura this was a bad idea-“

“No! No. It’s not that.” Keith let out a nervous laugh. “I just didn’t expect this. Actually, I… I thought you were avoiding me ‘cause _I_ was making you uncomfortable.” Shiro frowned.

“Uncomfortable? Why would you make me uncomfortable?” Keith’s blush seemed to deepen as he looked away again, this time down at his own feet.

“Um, because, you know, maybe I was being a bit much?” Keith shrugged, an attempt at appearing nonchalant as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“I’m not following.” Shiro’s frown deepened, genuinely confused as he tried to think of something that Keith did too much of. If anything, most things Keith did he should probably do more of, besides working out.

“Shit, I mean, I ask you to have lunch together every day, I consult you about programs, I ask you to spot me even when Allura is nearby and free, I just, I thought you’d figure it out eventually and you know, push me away.” Keith glanced up at Shiro, a shyness in his face that Shiro had never expected to find.

“Oh.” It finally dawned on Shiro. “You like me?”

Keith’s response came in a breathy laugh. It was the kind of laugh that came unexpectedly, and Shiro reveled in its awkward inflection, in the way Keith’s eyes were shut tight as his nose scrunched up, his chin tucked in against his chest tightly, as if he too were taken aback by his laughter and trying to contain it. Shiro could feel his own lips morph into a grin, his heart lifting as it beat faster, the embarrassment forgotten as he promised himself to always surprise Keith like that, to always make him laugh when he least expected himself to laugh.

“Yeah, I like you.” Keith snickered, a laugh or two vibrating up his shoulders as he shook his head in amusement. “You’re impossible, Shiro.” Shiro was about to respond when the door to the bathroom swung open again, a stranger stalking towards one of the urinals. They both remained silent, waiting for the man to finish and leave, before looking at each other again, giggling like children. “We should probably go back.” Keith said, Shiro nodding in agreement, hoping the bar was dim enough for the others not to notice the blush that remained on both of their faces.

“What did I even do?” Shiro pouted as he exited the cubicle after Keith, resuming their conversation. It wasn’t like he could have known that the man liked him, Keith was practically unreadable.

“Nothing. I just see why Allura wants to strangle you sometimes.” Keith laughed again as Shiro whined. He patted his back as Shiro tried to explain the conspiracy that was Allura’s hidden bully persona, but as they reached the table, they heard cheers coming from the others.

“What took you so long?” Hunk cried, “I’m on my third drink.”

“That,” Pidge smirked, “is because you have no concept of paced drinking.”

“Uh, poop paladin was needed again?” Keith offered as he settled down next to Allura, letting Shiro sit on the outside this time.

“Ew, Shiro, get a grip!” Pidge groaned.

“What’s the poop paladin?” Lance asked urgently, his eyes begging anyone to tell the story. Hunk began to retell it as Shiro took a sip from his drink, rolling his eyes as Pidge and Allura inserted grotesque details that were far too exaggerated, but he let them, far too comforted by Keith’s warm arm that brushed his every time the man’s body shook with contained laughter.

He was too in his head, resisting the urge to look over and stare at the man’s profile as the conversation carried on to other topics, Keith contributing into some of them. He nearly jumped as he felt a warm hand land on his just under the table, his heart switching onto a wild tempo. He had just willed it to slow down when he chanced a look at the paler man, the connection between their gazes jolting him into a laugh, which he was grateful fit the context of Pidge’s recent poke at Lance.

As he analyzed the flutter in his heart, he realized that was he was feeling was what his therapist referred to as happiness.

He cupped Keith’s hand, squeezing it with his own.

Happiness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is SO late. I say this every chapter, I know, I'm tired of my ass too. I actually was sick with an infection for a whole month, and after I was done with that I was slammed with midterms, and with figuring out stuff in a really fresh relationship, so a lot of my time was dedicated to not-writing-things. I've written this out though, and I do like it, so I hope you guys enjoyed it.
> 
> This is NOT the end! There is more plot to come, regarding their own configuring their relationship, working through their respective pasts and starting to trust each other, and growing/bettering themselves together. Indeed, my friend, this fic is 100% wholesome and will not have toxic shit going on. I just want them to be happy ok.
> 
> On a serious note: I was thinking hard and realized that me changing robot arm for an injured arm may seem ableist, and I really hope it isn't (but recognize the possibility that it might be ableist indeed). I was trying to relate a robot arm to a universe that is more grounded to earth, but I see now that a prosthetic is more obvious. I'm still toying with whether Shiro's arm should be a prosthetic or not, but so far research has suggested that heavy lifting (especially as a career) does not go with prosthetics very well, as many of them can't handle the kind of weights he and Allura are shown to be pushing/pulling in this fic. In that case, his arm will remain chronically injured as I've alluded to so far. If anybody reading has an opinion on this, I'd appreciate hearing from you- I'm totally torn myself. I definitely do not want this to come as offensive or ableist to anyone, and I'd rather be called out for it so that I can change it. Shiro, in my eyes, has been shown as an important representative for disability, and I do not want to take that away as an author.
> 
> Besides that, Lance is starting to be more included in the group now! Keith has stuff he's not telling Shiro, and Shiro is still struggling with accepting his past and not letting it haunt him. Life is hard for those two y'all. I'll try to get the next chapter to you before I turn 100 I promise.


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